


Love will conquer all

by Prisioux



Series: Hermione and Tom [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, F/M, Infidelity, Love Potion/Spell, Memory Charms, Memory Loss, Multi, Pregnancy, Slytherin, Time Travel, Time Turner, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-05 19:05:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15177302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prisioux/pseuds/Prisioux
Summary: Hermione Granger is desperate: when she finds that her boyfriend, Ron, betrayed her trust, she decides to leave everything and everyone behind and start anew.Pregnant, but determined to suceed in re-shaping the world, she travels back in time, meets with Merope Gaunt and works on building a new family and a new life.But Hell is paved with good intentions...Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 

Harry paced nervously in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place; it had been almost a day since Hermione had disappeared.

Harry Potter blamed himself.

Ron had done something, something that shook Hermione to her core. This Harry knew.

Hermione disappeared because Ron had done something and because Harry had done nothing.

How he regretted listening to Ginny: “ They just had a disagreement; you know how Hermione is, she worried too much. Ron can be clueless, but he loves her dearly and I am sure they will work things out.”

Hermione had returned to Hogwarts as him and Ron started training as Auror. Harry knew how Ron had been under pressure from his parents to propose to Hermione; his two friends had been officially together since the end of the war, but were barely seeing each other. The Seventh Year students at Hogwart, many veterans of war, had been allowed to take as many weekends off as they could. But Hermione, instead of travelling to the Burrow to spend time with Ron, almost always stayed behind, eager to find a cure for her parents, who had been obliviated by her and sent to Australia.

Harry sensed Hermione´s loneliness and convinced Ron that he, as her boyfriend, had to be more supportive in those times: “ Why instead of waiting for her to come to you, you do not go to her?”

Ron followed Harry´s advice and went to Hogsmeade; He did not know exactly _ what  _ happened, but he received a desperate owl from Hermione later that day:

> “Dear Harry,
> 
> Ron was here, but left already. I think it is best this way...you know how much I love him, but I need to finish my studies and get my parents back.
> 
> Harry, I do miss them a lot. I feel like I turned my back on them and it is killing me that I had them obliviated.
> 
> I spoke to Ron, tried to make him understand how it is to be alone in the world, to have lost parents...but he does not see that way; said I had a family in the Weasleys , that they also lost Fred, and  that I should ask the Ministry to find and deal with my parents memories instead of trying to do it myself.
> 
> Harry, I cannot do this anymore; I told him to leave. I am so hurt, so confused…”

 

***

Harry felt the despair in the letter, Hermione had never been so.. _.vulnerable _ before. Not even when she had been tortured at the Manor she sounded so defeated, so broken.

He should have gone to her, held her hand, told her she was right, that she needed to get her parents back and that he supported her decision.

Instead, Harry showed the letter to Ginny and remained at the Burrow. Ron returned at some point, but left very early in the morning; Harry did not even see his friend when he went downstairs to have breakfast…

Next thing he knew, Hermione had changed her mind  _ completely, _ accepted a Hogwart´s certification of completion- the same Harry and Ron had - and applied for a midwifery apprenticeship at St Mungo's.

Harry knew that Hermione had  _ briefly  _ considered becoming a healer, so this choice alone had not raised his suspicious; but the fact that Hermione, so fierce, so determined, so ambitious, was behaving like a meak, shy and subservient woman, who hung at Ron's every word,  _ this _ alarmed Harry.

The months passed, Hermione either at St Mungo's or in the company of Ron, her now fiancé. If Harry wanted to know about his friend, he had to ask Ron. It had become impossible to have a real conversation with Hermione, who alternate between sounding completely consumed by her relationship with Ron or clearly depressed.

When it was announced that the Auros in training would spend a week on a field trip to Russia, Ron was very concerned. “ I cannot leave Hermione alone for such long time.” They had moved back to the Burrow and Hermione spent all her free time with Molly, organizing the details of her wedding, so Harry did not see the problem, nor had Ron been capable to properly explain _ why _ he felt this way

On the surface, everything was  _ fine _ and Harry noticed how Hermione´s smiles seemed forced, especially when they were directed to Ron.

He knew by then he could not share his worries with Ginny and decided to speak with Hermione, just to find out that the door, once closed, would never be open again.

And then, Hermione was gone.

***

Harry left for a walk; he saw himself at Godric's Hollow, unaware of how exactly he had arrived there. He drank half a bottle of firewhisky and thought about how many times Hermione had saved his life, and how she had lost everything by choosing to stay and fight.

Harry drifted into a dreamless sleep; he woke up in the morning feeling…  _ strange _ .  _ empty _ .

_ Something important is missing _ .

_ No, not something ...  someone! _

Harry could simply not remember who it was.


	2. Going Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione decides the only way forward is to go back.

Hermione´s parents were not religious by any means, but  as some members of their extended family were more observant than the lapsed Catholic Mrs Monica Granger and the Reformed Jew Mr Herbert Granger, Hermione grew up having enough contact with both Faiths for some things to brush off on her.

Despite years of living as a witch, Hermione could not help feelings of guilt arousing now, and if there was something she trully, deeply believed , was in retribution.

What goes around, comes around.

_I betrayed my parents trust by obliviating them and now, Ron betrayed my trust by...by...._

She could not even admit it in her thoughts. The discovery was brutal: Hermione woke up that morning not feeling quite herself. She quickly focused on her last memories, of she saying goodbye to Ron the day before and could not believe they were _still_ together.

But no, Hermione was at the Burrow and had a _ring_ on her finger.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Molly Weasley, who had come by and reminded Hermione that she was to help with lunch, since she  had missed breakfast.

“I am sorry, Molly, but I am feeling unwell…”

Hermione was not lying.

She was feeling like _shit_.

“Of course, Hermione...whenever you feel better or need something, all you have to do is call for me.”

As Molly left, Hermione jumped from the bed and started opening Ron's drawers; she knew _exactly_ what she was looking for and went about to find it.

The small vial in her hands, with its distinctive mother of pearl sheen, confirmed Hermione´s suspicions; never before Hermione wished to have been wrong about something, tears streaming down her face, her whole body weakened from finding she had been _poisoned_.

Images of the past month passed through Hermione's eyes: her fight with Ron; her unanswered letter to Harry; Ron coming back and convincing her to go have drinks with him and talk and then, she moving into the Burrow, as he had always wanted, and choosing a less political career path as she prepared to marry _him_ …

Hermione vomited just at the _thought._

She found Molly downstairs, said she had forgotten some papers at St Mungo's and quickly left.

 

***

Hermione wanted to go home, to her parents, but she had disposed of them; at that time, she had been convinced that it was for their own protection.

This was mostly true; yes, Voldemort was dangerous and she was a target, but there were other options, other ways, paths she had chose _not_ to explore..

_I could have told them the truth; they would have taken me with them of course, but no, I did not even trust them to let me decide my own fate. And why that? I felt so awkward every time I came home...they were so nice, so caring. It must have broken their hearts the many times I asked to spend more time with my friends, with the Weasleys…_

_They accepted me for what I was, even allowed me to attend a school they could not even see! My God, how wrong is that? Why muggle born parents have not the same rights as the wizard ones?_

_Even if I not believed I was above them, that is how I behaved.  Exactly like the wizards I so despised, who saw muggles as simpletons, unworthy of their attention, of their respect..._

_I broke their trust...I tampered with their minds. And Ron did the same…_

At St Mungo's, Hermione performed a pregnancy revealing spell and discovered that she had conceived a daughter under the effects of the love potion.

A conversation with Harry came into her mind; there was another person they knew that had been conceived through this sort of magical... _rape_. Dumbledore himself believed children conceived this way would be born without the ability to love, and who could say he was not wrong?

Had Tom Marvolo Riddle actually loved anyone?

There are, of course, different kinds of love. Had Merope Gaunt not died, had she raised her son with affection, Tom Riddle would have known motherly love and would have loved Merope back. So, Dumbledore´s theory must have been only _partially_ correct: as love potion does not mimic true romantic love, it stood to reason that it would affect the conceived child by impairing the ability to experience the kind of romantic love it was expected to entice.

Hermione felt slightly better; some people lived happy lives without finding a partner and she would raise her daughter knowing that it was normal not having any desire to marry or having children for the matter.

As for Ron…while Hermione understood, she could not forgive.

She would leave for Australia, recover her parents memory, grovel and ask for forgiveness, and raise her child far from her father. She would never share custody of the daughter she was waiting with Ron, but yes, she would allow supervised visitation…

_Is there such a thing in the wizarding world?_

St Mungos had a good Library and a whole session on Wizarding Family Law and Traditions. The hospital would deal with issues pertaining this area on a daily basis, like who had the right to visit a certain patient, or who should be informed when a child was orphaned.

As an apprentice, Hermione had full access to the Library; she picked up two books, accioned her quill and parchment and started taking notes.

What she found shocked her.

Hermione had decided not to press on the subject of Ron and what he had done. She did not want Ron to be arrested, nor she wanted to expose herself and the child for that matter. She knew him too well :Ron was impulsive. He got desperate when Hermione asked for a time, judged he would lose her and fed her the potion. Many wizards and witches had been raised to think using love and lust potions was not a big deal. She reasoned that lots of teenagers in the muggle world knew shoplifting was wrong, but did not consider their actions as crime, and many courts would agree, provided their parents had connections, which the Weasley had..

What truly disgusted Hermione was that the Wizarding Law believed in “ implied consent” and that her situation would fall into this category.

Ronald Weasley would not only _not go_ to jail, but he would actually have a _utomatic and irrevocable paternal rights over the baby._

This was really upsetting. Hermione knew now that Ron was the type of man capable of slipping a love potion to woman that had basically broken up with him because it was the easiest way to get what he wanted, so who was not to say that he was above imperiosing their daughter if the girl decided something against his wishes?

Ron might have given her the potion just one time...the effects of armotentia could take months to wear off. His presence must have stimulated the unatural bond; once he left, Hermione finally recovered her mind.

_Australia...Australia that is._

Hermione had been so far hesitant in approaching Jonas Henchel, Head of Unforgivable´s Victims Department,  and disclose her actions.

However, now that there was no other option than to disappear, Hermione decided to throw caution to the wind.

She looked at the timetable and saw that Henchel would be in his office in about a couple of hours; Hermione then asked his secretary for an urgent, last minute appointment. Her status as war heroine was something she would usually not use it, but this was a matter of life and death.

Hermione could not afford to be picky.

With some prompting, Hermione managed to have the first appointment of the day and went to the canteen to have a much needed meal, her nose buried in a book as she ate the shepherd´s pie.

 

***

Jonas Henchel was as old as Dumbledore had been when he died, but looked much younger.

_Perhaps all that meddling had aged Dumbledore._

Hermione quickly introduced herself, much to the Mediwizard´s amusement:

“ _Everybody_ knows who you are, Miss Granger. Tell me what can I do for you?”

“What I  will tell you now…”

Her uneasiness palpable, Henchel tried to put her at ease: “ Mss Granger, if you are more comfortable speaking in _theoretical terms_ , do so...I will answer your _theoretical questions_ without judging you for merely asking them. Be as thoroughly as possible, though.”

Hermione told about the obliviate charm in detail and asked  if and how could she revert  it, or wether there was another way of returning their memories, potion or legilimency.

Henschel did not offer Hermione any words of comfort; instead, he went straight to the point: “ A simple obliviate, performed to eliminate a single event in the patient´s mind is easy to be reversed. This, however _is not the case_ ; we  are talking about eliminating the existence of a _child_ , one the parents had a deep attachment to. The damage in their brains, the empty space that was left, must be _huge_.

To answer you quite frankly, while it would  bepossible to give them their memories back, it would take days of long sessions, a combination of curse breaking and legilimency,  not to mention they would need time to allow their the brain to re-settle.

The brains of wizards and muggles are _almost_ the same; ours is wired a little bit _differently_ , but this difference makes us slightly more...sturdy I suppose.

Do you understand what I  just told you, Miss Granger?”

“In theory, it would be possible to revert their memories, but there are many risks involved. Would they experience side effects, or possibly...even die ?”

Henschel nodded: “Death is a possibility, yes. They could develope an aneurysm, for instance.

Even if the procedure would be sucessful, it is more than likely that the patients would not really be the same; an extensive obliviate is a traumatic experience and they would most likely experience a change in their personalities that could go as far as affect their outview of life, for example.

We have also observed accelerated physical decline in some patients. In short, if done correctly there is a risk of mild to extreme side effects and, if done incorrectly, it could leave them in a vegetative state or even cause their deaths.”

 

***

Hermione did not return to the Burrow that night; she took a bed at St Mungo's dormitory and sent Molly Weasley a message that she was staying at the Hospital because she would work on the next shift.

_A lie._

Hermione had kept the old time turner she had used in third year; she now had the idea of returning to the day she obliviated her parents, to prevent her younger self from performing the charm .

She had read enough to know that people had travelled back years- centuries even- before, and was confident she could modify the turner to allow such long distance trip.

The problem was revealing herself to the past Hermione she would meet and convince her that the decision she had made was the wrong one.

At that time, all that mattered to Hermione was to save Harry and have her parents somewhere else; she believed in the cause and believed she was doing the best for everybody involved.

There were many problems with taking this course of action... having two Hermiones of similar age in the past was not only wrong but possibly dangerous.

This possibility discarded, Hermione considered going back even further, creating a new life for herself. She would either change things to such extent that her parents would have never conceived  her or, if she indeed would be born in 1979, her other self would be too old to be confused with her younger one…

Hermione decided then the year she had to return to, never to come back again:

**1926**

_I could...convince Merope Gaunt I am a distant relation of hers ...I could find out where she lived with Tom Riddle Sr and befriend her. I would have to have documents, pretend I was a widow, buy a cottage somewhere and open the doors for her. She would not return to the Gaunt shack if she had a friend..._

_I could be this friend._

I _could take my N.E.W.T´s while Merope cared for the babies...then I could tutor her. Tom would grow up with a sister, a loving mother and an aunt. He would know about his heritage and live in the muggle world and see first hand that not all muggles were bad._

_Without Voldemort, everybody would be safe._

 

***

Hermione went to Great Hangleton the next day; The Gaunts lived near the village of Little Hangleton, in a shack and, despite being as anti-muggle as they came, they interacted with them enough to have left registries.

Merope Gaunt, after all, _married_ Tom Riddle, so she had documents.

Her hunch had paid off; she found Merope Gaunt´s birth certificate at the local registry office and was able to track down her mother´s family a generation back. As it happens, Mary Gaunt, nee Wentworth was Marvolo's cousin from her mother´s side; her father was listed as Paul Wentworth, married to Anna Gaunt, and Mary´s place of birth  was “Brecon, Wales”.

Knowing where to look now, Hermione found out that Paul Wentworth had a sister called Alana, and she had a daughter born in 1908 that died in infancy. Both Alana and her husband, Gareth Smith, had died by 1922 without issue.

Hermione magically erased the death certificate of Laura Mary Smith, stole the original paper and left in place a copy. She also created a fake marriage certificate for Laura, marrying her to another boy from Brecon who had died in infancy called George Anthony Turner.

Having solved the problem of her new - _old_ \- identity, Hermione went about buying as much gold as she could with the savings her parents had left. The galleons she received from the Ministry as a reward for helping defeating Voldemort were used to buy her both muggle and magical currency she could track from 1926 or before

Hermione acquired books, clothes, shoes- _anything, really_ \- from that period in time. She was by now pretty adept at household charms and was able to have her things looking as good as new, leaving them in suitcases she would later magically shrunk.

It was absolutely important to make good with the gold and money she had; Hermione needed to stay home for some time after birth and support herself and Merope with her savings. Wales and Ireland, she imagined, offered cheaper lands and she wanted a small cottage, three bedrooms perhaps, but with enough land for a garden, in the outskirts of a  village but easy enough to access with a bicycle or car.

_Cokeworth._

She reasoned the local schools might have been good, for both Severus Snape and Lily Evans were thought to be very intelligent...

Hermione read all the local newspapers she could find of the year 1926 for the region of Cokeworth and surroundings, settling for a property with a cottage that, while a bit further away than she would have preferred, was near the nascent of the river, which meant the waters would be pure. It had only two bedrooms, but Hermione reasoned she could expand if  and when needed…

When Ron returned, Hermione was forced to continue with the farce of their relationship, keeping her pregnancy a secret.

Harry tried to speak to Hermione about how she could “ trust him” and that he would always be “ there for her” but she simply could not be bothered anymore: she would leave them _all_ behind, save herself and her child and in the process, also save _them._

Therefore ,no matter what Harry had to say to her, Hermione had already made up her mind.

She just sat there and listened to Harry speak and when an hour passed, Hermione stood up, kissed her friend goodbye and left.

 

***

The day before Hermione was to leave, she bought baby clothes, nappies and toys. She meticulously shrunkened all the belongings she was taking with her and went to have a shower.

She had invited Neville and Luna for lunch that day. They were good people, true friends and would be missed. The italian place she chose in muggle London was a favorite of her family. The maitre knew her by name and got them a very nice table.

Neville was happy, dating a Hufflepuff named Hannah Abbott. Hermione had always thought the Gryffindor was in love with Luna, but perhaps it was just a crush that wore off .

 _Like the crush I had on Ron_.

Luna was preparing to leave Hogwarts behind and travel with her father. Hermione noticed how Luna did not mention Ron, or asked about the wedding.

When the meal was over and it was time to say goodbyes, Luna held Hermione tight andcryptically  wished her “ safe travels.”

 

***

**1926**

 

The price for the cottage, as stated in the advert, did not include all that land Hermione wanted, according to the owner.

_I read the ad correctly; he is just trying to scare me because I am a young woman and he thinks he can..._

Hermione had two options: either she would confuse him and had them all sign the papers that same day for the money she had in hands or she would have to look for something else.

Two hours later, Hermione had the papers in her name. At some point, she would need to “update” the local registries at Wales, but so far, the birth and marriage certificates she had stolen from the previous timeline had been enough.

She then visited the local contractor, showed him the house, agreed on a timeframe for the renovations she planned and again, had to tamper with the man´s mind to be sure he would do the job as he was hired to.

A pregnant widow, without a family, in the twenties was considered to be prey. Since Hermione did not have time to fight the widespread misogyny, she settled to magically force men not to piss her off.

It was subtle, of course, all wandless and non verbial. Hermione took care not to be seen too much and not to make detailed introductions. She did not want to be known as the local, token eccentric woman of the village.

She wanted to be left alone for the time being.

 

***

This behind her, Hermione went to London, to track down Merope Gaunt. She checked in at a small hotel near King's Cross, went to have a late lunch nearby and spread a city map at the table.

As so happened, Merope was living with her husband at Hammersmith of all places. At first, Hermione thought the location spell she had worked was defective, but no, the couple had indeed leased a semi-detached house at Hammersmith.

It was Merope who opened the door:

 _Show time._ “ Good afternoon. My name is Laura Mary Turner and I was informed that a relation of mine was living here. “

Merope was a very plain looking woman, crossed eye and shy, but perhaps being married to Tom had opened up her a little, since she smiled and asked if Hermione- _Laura_ \-  was searching for her husband.

“No” Hermione answered. “ Actually I am here for you...Merope Gaunt, right? My mother was called Alana Wentworth and she was the sister of your maternal grandfather. My parents died years ago and well, my husband just last month, so I decided to track down my family.”

“Oh, are you a …?”

 _Her husband must be home. “_ Yes, _I am,_ but do not worry; my husband _was not_ and I will not embarrass you if you ask me inside.”

Merope ushered Hermione in; as she had expected, Tom Riddle was sitting by the sofa, listening to radio. He had a look on his face Hermione recognized: _she must have just fed him the potion._

Hermione reminded herself that Merope was a desperate woman who committed a huge mistake, that she had been brought up by a terrible family that descended from Salazar Slytherin, a man who believed one had to do _anything_ to get what one wanted, not to mention that Merope would stop giving Tom the potion sometime and that she came to regret her mistake,  even going as far as choosing to die.

Therefore, Merope was still redeemable in Hermione's eyes.

“Tom, this is my second cousin, Laura Turner; Laura, this is my husband, Tom Riddle.” Merope said with pride in her voice.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Turner.” Tom answered mechanically.

“We are about to have some tea, would you care to join me in the kitchen?”

The Gaunts were notoriously adverse to social contact and Hermione´s assumption- that Merope had only heard about her mother´s father, but never laid eyes on his other grandchildren- was proven correct.

Hermione spent the next hour in the company of Merope. When she disclosed she was about four months pregnant, Merope left out a squeal: “ Oh, we are also expecting...he is due sometime early  January.”

“That is great news, Merope...my girl should arrive around the same time, actually. “

They met the next day, this time in the city and went to watch The Black Pirate, a silent movie starring Douglas Fairbanks.

The whole month was spent this way, with both women meeting almost everyday for outings or tea.

When Hermione finally left for Cokeworth, she gave Merope her address, invited both her and Tom over to visit and handed a portkey to her “cousin”:

“If you need me, all you have to do is use the portkey; my doors will be always open for you, Merope.”

 

***

The next weeks were spent cleaning and organizing her cottage, placing wards around it and reading books on child rearing. Hermione had a small, one room cabin built in the garden that she would use as a laboratory; if by any chance, she could not sit her NEWT´s, she could earn money in the black market for potions.

There were many things she still had to do before Rose was born, like opening her vaults at Gringotts and contacting Hogwarts about finishing her education, but nearing the sixth month of her pregnancy, Hermione had to admit her energy levels were at its lowest and when Merope wrote, asking if she and Tom could visit, it was just the excuse for her not to do anything other than baking cookies and finally placing curtains in the windows.

Tom Riddle, had been raised at a Manor and did not seem impressed by Hermione cozy cottage, but was polite enough to thank his hostess for the invitation; Merope, on the other hand, was delighted: “ It is lovely, Laura!”

“Thank you, Merope. It is not much, I know, but it serves my needs. Come outside, I want to show you the lab!” Tom had claimed fatigue and had retired for an afternoon nap, so Hermione felt free to speak openly about magic.

“I keep postponing a trip to Diagon Alley, I am tired half the time and frankly, a bit cranky, but I need to buy cauldrons and ingredients to start brewing once Rose is born. I also need an owl and to be connected witg the floo network. While I do not have a Mastery at Potions, I am very interested in the subject and do not want to lose my hand, so to speak.”

“I also love potions!” Merope said a she inspected the place and Hermione could not help but to wince. _Oh boy, do I not know how you love potions, Merope!_

“Well, it is not safe to brew during pregnancy, otherwise I would offer you the space, the lab is small but could easily fit two working stations.”

Merope looked a bit ashamed and offered no reply, just nodded and they continued the tour.

“I want to have plants and herbs, perhaps even fruits and I am working in acquiring seeds in the neighboring markets. With luck, I will have all ready by the end of the year and I can write Hogwarts and inquiry about the N.E.W.T´s”

“Laura” Merope said lightly. “ Are you sure it is a good idea? Those tests are expensive and it is not like a young widow with a small half blood child will have plenty of career opportunities. Perhaps you should keep your gold and work from home. There is always a buyer for a good potion, even without a mastery.”

“I have thought  as much, Merope, but I would like to try it first before giving up. “

Merope and Tom stayed for a couple of weeks before returning to Hammersmith. They exchanged letters regularly until end November, when Merope left two letters go unanswered.

Worried about her "cousin", Hermione decided to pay Merope a visit and found out that Tom had already _left_ :

“Why did you not come to me, Merope?”

“I did not want to trouble you, Laura. The lease is paid for another month and I want to be here if he comes back…” Merope then started crying. “ and I am ashamed...because I _know_ he is not coming back. I was so stupid to even _think_...just because he had smiled at me one day! But I was so lonely, so desperate...”

Hermione, as much victim as Tom Riddle, could not look at Merope´s situation and judge her as harshly as she did Ron. She had always knew that the unloved, abused and sad Merope would repent, but seeing her go through all this pain- even if she herself had been the architect of her misery- was a heartbreaking experience.

“Come with me. You should not be alone; you must think of your baby, be strong for him...perhaps one day you can have a conversation with Tom and come to an agreement, but this will take time...whatever happened between the two of you, it was very serious for him to leave you. If he wants to find you, he knows where I live.”

This convinced Merope; Hermione left her friend packing and went to organize the train tickets, since apparating was dangerous so far along in their pregnancies and using a portkeye was simply.. _.not_ that pleasant.

Hermione also knocked on the house owner´s door and asked for a refund of the month Merope would not be needing; as expected, the man barked and Hermione simply charmed the beast into doing what she told him to. She had become quite adept at wandless magic and she honestly felt no guilt whatsoever into forcing those men to do her bidding; she would always ask nicely first and , once they propositioned to her or answered condescendly, they were fair game.

Their trip to Cokeworth was a silent one. Actually, Merope spent the next weeks in a stupor and Hermione was so alarmed that she would only leave the house to buy food and reading material.

“Have you thought about a name, Merope?” Hermione prompted one night at dinner.

Surprisingly, Merope offered her only friend a shy smile. “ Yes, he will be called Tom Marvolo Riddle. I know I have not been the best company lately, Laura, but I want to thank you for everything you have been doing. I never had a friend before. I am happy to have met you, cousin.”

“I also had found difficult to establish friendships as I grew up; eventually, I did find some friends, but they are now gone and so is my family. Believe me, I am also happy to have met you, Merope, and I hope you will get well soon. We will have the house full with our babies in less than a month and we need to help each other.”

Merope fell into silence, but not in her usual depressed state; instead, she seemed to be lost in thought.

After some minutes of consideration, Merope finally said: “You should have heard that my father died in Azkaban...my brother should have been released by now and is surely living in our shack. My family has a number of heirlooms and objects of great value hoarded in our home, as father decided he was not to trust in goblins, and while it is obvious that my brother will die, unmarried and childless, and the property will fall to my son, as you said, we will need help soon.

We lost our fortune and good name many decades ago, but we still have a house -elf in the property. Pipi is middle aged and she mostly works tending the animals and the plants, but I am sure if we go there and speak to her, she will choose to leave my brother behind.”

Hermione disliked the idea of having a house-elf; it had been one of her aspirations, to fight for their rights and free as many as possible from the slavery the wizards had forced upon them.

 _However,_ Hermione could not picture Morfin Gaunt treating a magical creature with nothing but contempt and  concluded that yes, Merope was right and that they were to travel to Little Hangleton and rescue Pipi.

 

***

Hermione had to have known; everything was going _too_ smoothly.

Morfin arrived at the shak and confronted his sister: “The squib comes back to steal from me, huh? What happened to your muggle ? The effect wore off and he ran from you ? Are you here to beg for me to take you over, Merope? You know I would never have a half blood around!”

“I am not a squib...and... I just came to take Pipi with me. She is bound to me, so I am not stealing anything.” Merope said in a thin voice.

When she heard her brother coming near them, Merope asked Hermione to hide; she had done so, but now she was afraid that Morfin would attack Merope. For what she learned of the man, he was not above going after a pregnant and defenseless witch.

“Leave us, Morfin. We are not asking for anything other than Pipi.”

“Who the _fuck_ are you, witch?” Morfin asked angrily; he knew his sister did not have any friends, especially in the wizarding world, but the woman before him was clearly a powerful witch.

“She is our cousin, Laura, and what she says is true: we are only here for Pipi; not the ring or the locket, ar any of the books and papers. I am not even taking mother´s clothes, even though you have no use for them.”

“We have no cousin!” Morfin spat. “ If we had one, she would have been betrothed to me! The bitch fooled you, squib!”

 _This is not end well. “_ My parents died when I was around thirteen and I was taken in by neighbors, but I always knew they kept my existence a secret from your father _precisely_ because they did not wanted me to marry you…”

For the first time in days, Hermione saw Merope fighting not to laugh.

Hermione regretted the jape, since it made Morfin mad with rage. He started screaming at Merope, branding his wand. “ Maybe I should kill you the muggle way since you like muggles so much !”

The ugly man wrapped his hands around Merope´s neck, but before he could squeeze it, Hermione stuck a dagger she had found in the cupboard she had been hiding on Morfin´s back and watched as he died before her eyes.

His voice disappeared; he released Merope and tried to retrieve the dagger, but was too weak to mange it.

Morfin fell on the floor.

It was so fast- _too fast_ \- that Hermione concluded the blade had been either cursed or poisoned.

Merope just looked at the lifeless body of her brother and said: “We should leave.”

“Not like this.” Hermione replied. “ I am sorry it had to come to this, but he would have killed you.”

“I know, Laura...thank you for saving my life. But we need to go...the aurors will come!”

“They cannot track wands since we did not use them or even cast unforgivables...the wards were also not disturbed, as you are a Gaunt. We could...leave him to be discovered by the muggle police. People in Little Hangleton know about him and your father…”

As the magic of house elves was powerful and using Pipi to dispose of Morfin would not alert the magical authorities, Hermione had the elf not clean the blood, but rather collect it; night fell quickly and they moved Morfin to an alley behind the local pub, The Hanged Man. Pipi splashed the blood around Morfin while Hermione went to the Pub, finding it half empty, and  “ convinced” the barman and the patrons that Morfin had been drinking there and left barely walking; that they heard some voices being raised outside, but did not mind because it was a normal occurrence.

She then paid a visit to a couple of houses neighboring the pub and planted the idea that they heard some muffled sounds and raised voices coming from the street; an old woman named Martha went to the window to see what was going on, but only saw Morfin laying in the ground and assumed he had just passed out drunk.

 

***

Pipi quickly adapted to life at Cokeworth and while Merope´s mood improved considerably, she still looked sickly and forlorn.

Hermione was filled with plans; she had placed french doors in the living room dividing it: the high ceiling area , where the fireplace was located, served as a parlour, and the area under the second floor nearing the stairs, was the study, with shelves that Hermione was slowly filling with books.

She had also mentioned that they could, in the future, have a third bedroom built in the ground floor, “ once the babies are weaned “ and Pipi could sleep in the nursery and keep an eye on their children.

There was also the question of the Gaunt property: since Morfin´s death, a week had passed and nobody had contacted Merope, Hermione suggested they contact the local police. “ They must keep the body for identification and you are after all, next of kin. Later on, we can have Pipi help us remodeling the shack into a nice cottage...magical properties are more expensive than muggle ones, we could lease it and use part of the money to support us...”

Merope agreed with the plan, but only after Tom was born, she said; it was the end of the year and Hermione assumed that Morfin´s death was not such a priority for Great Hangleton police, otherwise it would have been reported...as there was no local papel, just a weekly magazine of sorts, it stood to reason that his death would soon be made public, perhaps in the first week of the year, she reasoned.

 

***

Merope went into labor on the 30th of December. At first, the progression was normal. Hermione had assisted in some births at St Mungos to know that and allowed herself to be optimist.

After twelve hours passed since the water broke and Merope had only went as far as being 7 cm dilated, and she could not but push until she was 10 cm, Hermione grew scared.

Hermione had brought many supplies with her and gave Merope a tea to induce labor once she hit the thirteenth hour; by then, instead of nearing the 10 cm mark, Merope had actually gone down to 6 cm, which was terrible news.

The herbs helped and in less than an hour, Tom Marvolo Riddle was born; it was the first minute of December 31st. As Merope never reached the 10 cm they needed, Hermione had to make cuts; she placed Tom in her friend's breast and while Pipi helped Merope nursing, Hermione sewed the lacerations.

The bleeding continued however, more than it was supposed to.

Hermione gave Merope blood replentishing potions, but the truth was, the woman was _fading_.

 

***

“Tom is beautiful...he will love you...you will be a much better mother than I would ever hope to be...”

 

“Nonsense; he needs _you,_ Merope...you cannot let yourself die.”

 

“When Tom left, I wanted to kill myself...I was so lonely, so hurt, felt so guilty...I only stayed alive so that my son could be born. That is the truth, Laura. Forgive me for being weak. I would have left him in an Orphanage had you not appeared in our lives. Please, say you will care for him…”

 

“I will...I will tell him about you, show him pictures…”

 

“This would be lovely, but you are to be his mother. Laura, I know Hogwarts had never replied positively to your letters...a  witch, alone, without a family with a half blood child will not be taken seriously. Chances are the Headmaster did not even see your letters, they possibly did not recognize your seal and simply disregarded it entirely.

Nobody has seen me for years, but they know the name Gaunt. Bury me as Laura Mary Turner; with my name and your drive, you will have a chance...and you can guide Tom and provide better prospects for Rose.”

 

“I am not a Gaunt, Merope.”

 

“But you could be.”

 

***

A full blood adoption would leave Hermione- _Laura-_ as a full fledging Gaunt. Merope, being the last of her line, had the powers to do it, but although Hermione recognized the truth in Merope´s words- that she would have a hard time breaking even in the wizarding world as a Turner- she did not want to become a descendant of Salazar Slytherin.

They settled for a blood bond instead; Hermione would continue to be who she was in body and spirit, but her blood would be compatible to the Gaunts, like she was a distant cousin, exactly what she claimed to be.

_Maybe Merope knew all along we were not related._

Merope also opened her mind for Hermione to learn about her life and what she saw there made her cry.

 

***

Hermione followed the muggle procedures the next day, using of all her _persuasion_ to have Merope- _Laura_ \- be buried at the local church graveyard less than two hours after her death certificate was emitted, before the snow would fall again and make a ground burial impossible.

She now had no need to go to Wales; instead, Hermione went to Little Hangleton, to deal with Morfin Gaunt and his death.

Tom was left with Pipi with enough milk for half a day; newborns need skin to skin contact and Hermione had slept with him in the same bed the night before and found it  very comforting.

She was eager to return to the cute boy.

This Tom was _not_ Lord Voldemort; this Tom was an innocent baby and _not_ the killer of Harry´s parents.

Hermione used a portkey to Little Hangleton; nobody seemed to remember Merope Gaunt well enough, so Hermione barely used her magic to convince people otherwise.

She recognized the body, had it buried at the local graveyard, and , feeling the need to retain a part of her original identity,  magically changed the name of Merope Anne Gaunt to Merope _Hermione_ Gaunt.

 

_***_

Rose was born in the morning of January 2nd 1927.

 When Hermione went to register her twins, she chose the January 1st date as it was the day between both real birthdays.

_Once they turn eleven, I will tell_

Since she had always thought about founding her own House, being a muggle born witch, and Ron, perhaps a bit guilty for his treachery, had agreed to pass on the name Granger-Weasley to their children, Hermione had her _twins_ named Tom Marvolo Gaunt-Riddle and Rose Jean Gaunt-Riddle.

Hermione framed the two pictures she had taken with Merope at a local Hammersmith photographer; as Tom was also featured in one of them, she decided to continue to pretend she was a widow, even though the man was alive at his Manor.

  
  
  



	3. A fateful meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Lucius meet ( and Rose, Tom and Abraxas)

**Chapter 2**

 

**1932**

 

Hermione felt a tingle of excitement as she walked through the halls of St Mungo's, ready to work on her first shift as healer at their Children Care Department.

Hogwarts finally replied to the letter signed by “ Merope Hermione Gaunt”, but instead of inviting her to sit for N.E.W.T´s, they “strongly advised” her to take the O.W.l´s instead,  a blow to her plans of applying for apprenticeship at the wizarding hospital by the end of Summer.

She was now dealing with wizards, so she could not simply go to Hogwarts and tamper with  Headmaster Dippet´s mind without consequences; therefore, Hermione sat at her study and penned him a very polite, but argumentative letter, citing many of her accomplishments as a witch, detailing her rigorous studying regimen and going as far as listing all the books she had so far read ( that were printed before 1926) and asking that he please, reconsider his offer.

Most of the letter dealt with rational reasons why Dippet should allow Hermione to take the final tests; she felt the Headmaster would be much more interested in her academic achievements than in learning about her personal situation. However, the fact remained that the motivations behind Hermione´s  insistence _had_ to be addressed.

Hermione took pains not to sound as she was using her tale of woe and sorrow to emotional blackmail Headmaster Dippet ( she did not want to go into Dumbledore territory) while still pleading her case and stressing that, as the last of her line and as a mother, she owed to both her ancestors and descendants to have a proper education.

Hermione prevailed in the end.

And she did not disappoint.

O grades in all  chosen subjects, the only upsetting news during the week was to find out that her patronus had changed: the playful otter that Hermione had loved was now a beautiful fox.

_At least, it is not a snake..._

She impressed not only Headmaster Dippet, but all the other Professors; Hermione was handed excellent letters of recommendation by the five professors who taught the required subjects to enter a career in healing arts, which made her confidence levels skyrocketed.

After finishing the final exam, Professor Slughorn insisted in showing Merope Hermione Gaunt the dungeons where Slytherin House was located.

The man was positively beaming at her : “Although is a pity that you were homeschooled, I trust that, in eleven years time, I will be honoured in teaching your children, Lady Gaunt.”

Hermione, who knew a thing of two about the future, could not resist but to scare the old fool with a warning :” Tom will undoubtedly become one of your favorite pupils, Professor Slughorn, and his sorting into Slytherin is all but a fact; but please, in case he ever asks you about horcruxes, do yourself a favour and refuse to answer him…”

The  poor man was on the verge of an apoplexy attack.

 

***

“Pipi, when will mom come back?” Rose asked the magical creature impatiently.

The house elf loved Mistress Hermione´s children, but they could be _so_ difficult sometimes ! “ Mistress said not before Pipi serve young mistress and young master breakfast.”

Rose pouted; she liked when Pipi braided her hair, but at bedtime, she preferred her mother: “ I will wait for mum..”

Rubbing her eye, she announced. “I am _not_ tired…”

Tom was finishing his latest drawing - him, defeating a dragon and Rose, locked in a tower- and decided to help poor old Pipi in dealing with his sister: “ Don´t be such a baby...mum says I am a big boy and I am here, so you don't need to be scared.”

“I am _not_ scared!” Rose said firmly. “ and I am _not_ tired!” *yawns*

“Pipi could tell us a story.“ Tom offered.

Pipi was _not_ sure she could: “ About the elfling who cried wolf?”

“No, I want to hear about the dancing princesses…” By then, Rose was threatening to cry.

 _Why does she has to cry all the time?_ “You look ugly when you cry, Rose.” Tom could not remember the last time he cried and did not understand why Rose liked it _so_ much!

“Oh, poor young Mistress… see, Pipi make toys dance!”

Rose clapped as her dolls and Tom´s wooden train were levitated by Pipi and started to move in the air.

 

***

Hermione had signed a contract to work three night shifts per week; she was so happy to have finally finished with her education, that accepted the first offer, not even glancing at the parchment to know how much she would be making.

Once she got home, Hermione realized she had made a mistake, but tried to be optimistic. _Sure, I am the newbie; once I prove myself, I can ask for a raise._

She was generally well liked and became good friends with a couple of muggle born witches who worked as midwives; Hermione noticed how more career oriented muggle borns and half bloods tended to be and naturally gravitated towards them.

Despite (blood) politics playing a great role at St Mungo's, nothing substituted talent; in matters of life and death, even pure bloods would seek a muggle born mediwizard if the professional was known to be the best in the field; Hermione, now living as a pure blood, could be considered by many a “ blood traitor” by having half bloods children, so she expected that her professional career would be affected, if only at the beginning, by the elite´s prejudices, before she could establish herself.

 

***

As children were known for their propensity to have accidents, the newly created wing for Small Patients was located on the ground floor, near the Artefacts Accidents Department, and was, in fact, part of said department, albeit a more specialized one.

House elves and witches would usually heal the children under their care, but the Department of Health advised parents and caretakers in some case to seek professional medical assistance, since some internal damages could only be perceived by trained wands.

The Department for Small Patients would be buzzing with excitement during the day, when parents would take their children for their yearly check ups, but night shifts were usually, quiet and tonight it did not seem different: in the first two hours of her shift, Hermione sat at the nurses common room, where she finished the last chapters of “ Show Boat”, the novel by Edna Ferber.

The book dealt with forbidden love, wrong choices and racial prejudice and, in the end, Hermione wondered how it would be, to love someone as much as Steve and Julie had loved each other and got suddenly depressed, thinking that, stuck in this new timeline as a single mother and member of a much despised family, her chances at finding someone to share her life with were severely limited.

Still upset that she had come to the end of the book without knowing what had happened to Steve ( something she would never forgive Edna Ferber for), Hermione went to have a nap.

40 minutes later, the Welcome Witch woke Hermione up:

“Healer Gaunt, Lords and Master Malfoy were shown to room 002.” The blond middle aged witch handed Hermione the parchment with information regarding Abraxas Malfoy fall from his newly acquired broom and left.

 

***

Lucius Armand Malfoy was an imposing man.

Much like his grandson and namesake, Hermione could not deny Lucius was handsome. This Malfoy, at least, did not have that scowl on his face and his beauty was very masculine, screaming alpha male to everybody around.

The boy, Abraxas, was of age with Tom and Rose and looked exactly like a mini version of his father, save for the hair: it was the characteristic silver blond, but wavy, almost curly.

“Good evening, Mr Malfoy, I am informed your son fell off his broom and you he is here to scan for internal damages. Would you mind if I asked some questions directly to young Mr Abraxas?” It was important to listen the boy answer in his own words; parents had a tendency to answer for their children when they were perfectly capable to and did not understand they were actually not helping by doing so.

“Not at all, Healer Gaunt, I am sure Abraxas is well enough to properly answer to your questions .” Lucius then sat on a black leather chair and watched in fascination as the young - and _very_ pretty- Mrs Gaunt interacted with his boy:

Hermione lowered her body until she was on eye level with the child and started by introducing herself : “Abraxas, my name is Merope Hermione Gaunt, but my friends call me Hermione. Could you tell me your name and the date of birth, please?”

“My name is Abraxas Nicholas Malfoy and I was born on the 20th July, 1927.” he answered in a tired voice.

“Very good. I assume the broom you fell from was a birthday gift, since today is the 22th July, is that correct?”

“Yes, Mother sent me the broom through Tuty, her house elf; they live in Whitstable, by the sea, and when father takes me there, we always eat oysters!”

 _Trouble in pure-blood paradise, Lord Malfoy?_ Hermione had no idea why, but this piece of private information made her even more sympathetic to the small family before her.

Lucius looked aghast: “ Son, Healer Gaunt asked about your birthday gift, not about your mother's living arrangements.”

“I am sorry, father.”

“Well, Abraxas, I am sure the broom was a very nice gift and it is very common to fall when one is learning how to fly. “ Hermione then looked over her shoulders, as if making sure nobody would hear her, and whispered to the boy: “ Do not tell anyone, but I am very scared of flying brooms! “

“That is because you are a girl!” Abraxas answered in earnest. “I can teach you; it is really _not_ that difficult...I just fell because Father came to my room and caught me!”

Lucius observed with a smile how Healer Gaunt was performing her diagnosis spell whilst interviewing the boy, and all her questions were clearly designed to help her assess if Abraxas had sustained some damage, but she spoke with such ease and levity that it felt like they were simply having a friendly conversation and her son was clearly enamoured with the lady.

“Well, you should _always_ listen to your father if you do not want to get caught doing mischief, young man!” Abraxas lowered his eyes at being scolded; Hermione gently placed her right hand on the boy´s chin and smiled. “How would you like to spend the night here at the Hospital? I heard dinner will be shepherd's pie...and I brought some homemade cookies with me”

“I would like to, _Hermione_ !” Abraxas then pointed at his Father. “ But I cannot leave _him_ alone at the Manor. Could you please allow Father to stay ?”

“I will ask Madam Lapone to serve you dinner and speak with your Father about it; we should not take long  and I will join you shortly. “

Healers used coins charmed with the protean charm for internal communication purposes at St Mungo's; Hermione touched her coin and her assigned assistant came shortly, escorting Abraxas to the private room where the boy would be spending the night.

Hermione now found herself alone with Lucius Malfoy; it should have been awkward, but it was _not._ The memories of her torture at Malfoy Manor were intact in her head and she knew she would never really forget, but now that the word ”mudblood”, carved in her flesh by the insane Bellatrix Lestrange, was gone from her arm, Hermione was not afraid. The ugly word had slowly faded after the blood bond spell that linked her to Gaunts was performed, in a similar fashion to the linea nigra that came with the pregnancy and mared her stomach; Hermione came to the conclusion that the blade Bellatrix used had been cursed to magically scar muggle-borns, and now that she had an infusion of Gaunt pure blood, the curse had been lifted.

“Mr Malfoy, your son has not suffered any permanent brain injury from the fall. However, our internal procedures in such cases are to place patients in observation for at least 8 hours and only liberate the patient after a final re-evaluation, done by the next healer in charge.

Abraxas has indicated that he would be more comfortable if you stayed with him, but this is not mandatory. In case you wish to return to your home, Abraxas will be discharged around 7:00, when my turn ends.”

Lucius answered he would prefer to stay and sleep by his son´s side. He then added that he would be delighted “ to enjoy the company of the distinguished last daughter of the House of Gaunt for breakfast at six, either at the tearoom _or_ “ he completed with a smile. “ at your private office.”

Hermione had come to appreciate straightforwardness; however, while Mr Malfoy stated interest in her background stank of his pure blood prejudices, she was not averse to the idea of sharing a meal with him.

This is not to say that she would make it easy for Malfoy and thought, for the best, to make some points clear: “I should be available for breakfast yes, but you seem to be mistaken about two facts: one, I do not have a private office, and  two: I am less than proud of my family and its long held beliefs; in fact, my intention is to break free from their traditions. So, if you are under the impression that I follow certain pure blood practices, you are wrong.”

“Oh, you misunderstand; I do not take you for a cloistered, pure blood lady. If rumours  are to believed, you eloped with a muggle, a member of the local gentry if I am not mistaken.” He said  and Hermione could not detect a hint of censure. “But I do not see a ring and you still use your family name…”

“I am a _very_ private person, Mr Malfoy, but I am not ashamed to admit the rumours you mentioned are actually, true: _yes_ , I eloped with a muggle; _yes_ , my children are half bloods and _yes_ , my marriage is over , so I do not see _why_ I should use _his_ name or wear _his_ ring.”

“I meant no offense, Healer Gaunt. I half doubted the rumours because the wizarding world was well aware of your family predilections when it came to marriages _._ Seeing that you are now Head of your House, you could choose to go either way: setting your own rules, or due to your personal bad experience, re-evaluate your previously _good_ relationships with muggles.”

“ _Well_ “ Hermione said as she locked eyes with Lucius “ in this case, Mr Malfoy, I should assume that your policy now is to shun all pureblood witches, since your wife has obviously walked on you.”

The corners of Lucius mouth lifted upwards: “ _Touché_ , Healer Gaunt!”

 

***

“Apologies, that was uncalled for.”

“You do not sound apologetical at all…”

“That is because… _I am not_!?”

“Perfect! A woman of substance and spunk! I am looking forward to our breakfast, Healer Gaunt…”

 

***

Hermione and Lucius found Abraxas stuffing his face with shepherd's pie. Madam Lapone forgotten about the boy the minute his father walked through the door; she fawned over the elder Malfoy, batting her eyelashes at him and seemingly refusing to leave the damn room!

“Thank you, Madam Lapone,” Hermione said in a voice as cold as ice ” but I believe you are _not_ needed anymore.”

 _Jealous much, Healer Gaunt?_ Lucius, pleased to see that the pretty mediwitch was as attracted to him as he was to her, openly flirted with Lapone - _an old acquaintance_ \-  in front of Hermione.

When the nurse finally left, urging Lucius to “ say hello before he was to leave”, whatever _that_ meant, Hermione rolled her eyes.

_The nerve of him, his son is sick and he is trying to get into Lapone´s knickers!_

“Abraxas, I will return to take notes in about two hours, but will be very _sad_ if I find you still awake.” Hermione then pointed at the watch marking 21:15.”  You know, I have a son and a daughter your age and they go to bed by 20:00…”

“How do you have _two_ children my age?”

Lucius was the one to answer Abraxas: “ Healer Gaunt has twins, Brax.”

“But she said she has a _boy_ and a _girl_ …” the boy argued. “ Twins are the _same_!”

Hermione laughed and explained about fraternal and identical twins in simple enough terms a boy of five could understand. Abraxas listened attentively and Hermione thought that he looked like a like angel, his blond curls falling on his face, making his grey eyes even more beautiful.

She was tempted in kissing the boy's forehead goodnight like she was used to do with her children, but instead, Hermione offered Abraxas a warm smile and gently stroked his left cheek before wishing him sweet dreams and leaving the room.

After Abraxas drifted into a slumber, Lucius replayed his interactions with the Gaunt woman. She was very pretty, beautiful even, not the image people would paint when they spoke about the Gaunts.

He had been mislead by beauty before, when he was young, but now, with age and experience, Lucius had learned his lessons. The small gestures, the details that mattered. Hermione was calm, soft and warm towards Abraxas. It was her sole worry, to care for the boy, not to throw herself over his father.

Lucius had to push her to see if he had recognized the signs correctly. There were sparks when they talked and he liked how she held her ground, how she did not back down. The House of Malfoy had refused to inbreed themselves, and had married half bloods, but the last generations had abandoned their long forgotten pro-muggle stance and Lucius, like many other scions of british wizarding world, silently agreed with Grindelwald in many points.

But the witch he had just met had a complete opposite political position and made a very good case, he had to admit; their brief conversation had been intellectually stimulating, thrilling even.

And her eyes...those big, beautiful, brown eyes...

 

***

Lucius Malfoy sat by a table near the panoramic window; he had ordered what in muggle terms would be called a “ continental breakfast” and was reading the “Daily Prophet” when Hermione arrived for their meeting.

“I trust you slept well.” the healer said as she took her seat opposite the blond man.

“Thank you; as a matter of fact, I _barely_ slept at all. “

Hermione arched an eyebrow. _He claims not to have slept, and still looks like a Greek God...life is unfair!_

“I have been up for the last hour, making inquiries on your behalf.”

 _What is he even talking about?_ “Have you claimed the title of my benefactor, Mr Malfoy?”

“I was hoping you would think of myself more in terms of your own _knight in shining armour_ , Healer Granger.” As Lucius brought the tea cup to his lips, Hermione noticed the singlet ring on his finger. _He is the Head of His House and must be on the Board, so he knows what he is talking about._ “Do you realize they offered you a contract for three weekly shifts, but are only paying you for two?”

 _Bastards!_ “Is St Mungo´s in such dire financial state that is resorting to such cheap tricks? I signed my contract in good faith, Mr Malfoy, and, to be completely honest, it did not even crossed my mind to discuss numbers or ask my colleagues about how much they had been offered…”

“Everybody knows young women of good breeding would _never_ ask such things.”

_Good to know that Lucius think of me as a proper pureblood princess and is now fighting for my rights...wait, when did Mr Malfoy turned into Lucius?Get a grip, Hermione!_

_“_ How do you suggest I go about rectifying this injustice, Mr Malfoy?”

“I suggest you enjoy your breakfast, Healer Gaunt; the situation has already been rectified, by my hand no less. Shortly, you will receive a new contract and be offered a choice of office.”

Surprisingly, Hermione was pleased by this turn of events: it was a different, but good sensation, having someone looking out for her this way.

Fighting her own battles was part of her personal credo, and being self reliant, very important to Hermione, but oh boy, was it not _exhausting_ , to always remind everybody that she was not to be messed with?

But still, Hermione could not entirely trust Lucius, could she?

_He is a Slytherin and they are not known for doing nothing for free._

“Thank you for everything, Mr Malfoy. I do appreciate your efforts in helping me, but I wonder... _what do you want in return_?”

In Hermione's experience so far, men and wizards from this day and age were had no shames in propositioning to her, sometimes in rather blunt and crude manner. She knew Lucius would never be that crass, but , despite feeling quite lonely and in need of male companionship, Hermione would never exchange sexual favours to get ahead..

“My son does not have many children his age to play with. He suggested , and I agreed, that it would be a great idea to invite you and the twins to spend the next weekend at Malfoy Manor. Abraxas needs playdates and I imagine your children would enjoy all that Malfoy Manor has to offer.”

That was... _unexpected_.

Hermione was relieved. _This Lucius Malfoy is not all that bad!_

Tom and Rose were growing up quite isolated at Cokeworth; Hermione had organized playdates with the neighbor´s children, but she was terrified of them displaying accidental magic among muggles. As her friends were mostly unmarried, Hermione knew very few wizarding children.

The opportunity was indeed too good to pass: “We would be delighted to accept your invitation, Mr Malfoy!”

“Perfect!” he drawled. “ Please, call me Lucius in private; I would like us to be friends.”

 

***

Tom was the first to welcome Hermione home from work: “ ROOOOSE! “ the boy screamed “ Mum is here!”

Hermione wrapped her arms around the handsome boy and kissed him on the cheeks: “ Mum missed you _so_ much!”

“But it was only half a day!” Tom said.

Rose went running downstairs, Pipi on her heels :“MUM!”

“Good morning, princess!” _Kiss_. “ and good morning, Pipi…”

“Good morning, Mistress Hermione! Pipi is bringing breakfast.”

Hermione sat at the table and watched the children eat; she just sipped an herbal tea; _Lucius_ , quite fond of croissants, forced her to eat two, claiming she needed energy after a night at work:

“ I say you will never imagine where we are going this weekend. You have each  a chance to guess correctly!”

Tom went first: “ Are we meeting Grandma Mary at Brighton again ?”

After she was settled at Cokewort with Tom and Rose, Hermione decided to make an inventory of the Gaunt shack, keep tonly family relevant artifacts, books and heirlooms of significance, and sell the remaining objects, the ones too drenched in Dark Arts for her taste, and invest in property renovations.

She opened a vault at Gringotts in Tom´s name, used the money she received from Borgin and Burke to bulldoze the shack and build a cottage in the area; in the spirit of making “ more with less” Hermione had the idea to use the plant of her Cokeworth home as blueprint to the renamed “ Gaunt Cottage.”

When the house was almost finished, Hermione decided to throw an olive branch to Tom Riddle Sr; she wrote him, offering the opportunity to initiate divorce procedures at the Parliament. Before the First War, the process would be a very draining and public one, but after the Matrimonial Act of 1923, things got slightly easier. Still, adultery would have to be proved for the divorce to be granted, and Hermione, not really emotionally invested in a man she barely knew, saw no problems in playing the role of the wounded part and be known as a spurned wife.

The only thing she demanded was full custody of the twins.

Hermione felt she should, somehow, apologise to Tom on Merope´s behalf ( without admitting the use of  love potion, as she would be breaking wizarding law by disclosing such information to a muggle) and made sure to tell him neither she or the children used his name or would demand alimony.

Tom Riddle never replied.

But his mother did.

Mary Riddle was impressed with Hermione´s offer and asked if she could meet her grandchildren. Twins were not a common sight and Mary Riddle, now completely convinced that her son was getting mad (she could not believe such a good girl like Hermione could ever be a witch) was very intent in being a grandmother.

Hermione, however, could not trust Mary entirely; she kept the woman at arm's length, worrying that she would try to convince her son to get custody of the twins. Tom was the spitting image of Tom Riddle and 

Rose´s red hair was almost of the same shade as Mary´s, a coincidence that only made the woman even more determined to somehow be in their lives.

(another reason not to have Mary Riddle around much was the fear of occasional bouts of accidental magic.)

Hermione would not risk giving Mary ample access; saying that she did not want to “ upset Tom”, she suggested they meet far from Little Hangleton (and Cokeworth), so they spent a weekend in a hotel at Brighton. It became a yearly tradition and something Hermione could live with.

Hermione opened a post box to keep a correspondence with Mary without revealing her address, and she would send Tom and Rose parcels and receive their drawings and pictures in response.

“Tom, we just met grandma Mary two weeks ago.”

Now it was Rose's turn: “We are visiting a castle!”

“Rose, it is actually quite a good guess. We have been invited by Mr Malfoy to spend the weekend at his Manor. He has a son named Abraxas and he is very eager to meet the both of you.” Hermione then asked if Pipi would like to join them, since she knew the Malfoys kept about a dozen house-elves.

Even after all those years in the wizarding world, Hermione had _no_ idea about the inner workings of house-elves society; there were not many books written about them she could read, and Pipi never _really_ answered Hermione´s questions…

The magical creature was on the verge of tears:” Pipi is a good house elf...will not shame Mistress before the elves of clan Malfoy!”

“Pipi, if you are not comfortable in coming with us, you can stay here…”

Pipi said something about going where the mistress wanted her to and that nobody would serve Hermione better than Pipi.

Hermione just nodded; she was tired after the twelve hours shift. She kissed both her children and went to sleep until lunch time.

 

***

 

“What happened to your hair? Did your parents forget to put colour ?”

_“Rose!”_

“Father says we have silver blond hair. It is a colour!”

“ _Mmm_ ...it feels soft..come Tom, touch _Bax_ ´s hair!.”

“ _Rose!_ ”

“Your hair is funny.”

“Her hair is not funny, Abraxas; it is _red_!”

“I have beautiful hair. So, you want to play?”

“ _Yes_!”

 

***

“The children seem to be getting along just fine.” Hermione noted as she sat with Lucius at the deck, sipping tea and watching the three kids playing in the garden.

“More like a house on fire, you mean?” Lucius had never seen Abraxas this happy before. “ Ah!” he exclaimed. “ The Knights are pledging to their Queen!”

Hermione started to laugh: there she was, Rose, sitting on a chair, Abraxas and Tom kneeling before her ,their heads down as she knighted them both with a wooden sword.

 

***

“I think you should swear _Unbeakable_ Vows to me!”

“We are not of age, Rose!”

“Father might not like that… how about we get married instead?”

“Fine! Your house is big enough to fit all my dolls. Could you buy me more?”

“He is a _Lord_ , Rose; this means you will be a _Lady_. You can have all the dolls you want.”

“Yes, I can give you dolls; you can watch Tom and I flying with our brooms. If we fall, you take us to your Mother.”

“A wife should heal her husband…”

“Rose, you don't know healing spells!”

 

***

The children were safely put to bed; Hermione was exhausted. She joined Lucius in the Library for a night cap; she could not believe how different Malfoy Manor was under this Lucius and , for many moments, she actually forgot about the torture and all the terrible things that had happened there during Lord Voldemort reign of terror.

“Tom and Rose are used to sleeping in the same room; I actually added a master bedroom on the ground floor and moved down there to give them more space, but Rose claimed she had nightmares and Tom had to move back to the nursery...and, well, I am afraid they convinced Abraxas it would be a good idea if they all slept together…”

“Let the children be children, Hermione.” Lucius, always the good host, offered his guest a wide selection of beverages.

Hermione settled for red wine, straight from the Malfoys vineyard. “ Pipi is also being very territorial. Do you think your house elves take offense by Pipi insisting in serving me ?”

“No, they understand she is bound to you and that she is only doing her duty; they do not like _it_ , but they understand _it_. I assume you did not have many house elves at Gaunt Cottage, being that is rather small…”

 _How does he know it is now called Gaunt Cottage?_ “ You seem suspiciously knowledgeable about the property.”

“Dennis Pochart was an old associate of my father.”

Pochart had been living at the Cottage for over two years “The wizarding world in small.”

“Indeed.”

Hermione´s face suddenly became warm; _no_ , her whole body, actually. She recognized what was going inside those grey, stormy eyes.

She looked at Lucius the same way he looked at her.

“Since we both agree that the wizarding world is small, I must ask you: what do you know about the circumstances behind my marriage and the subsequent physical separation from my wife?”

Hermione had made discreet inquiries in her next shift at St Mungo's, sensing that Matron Lapone untoward behaviour towards the scion of House Malfoy was a common occurrence.  From her best friends, Alicia Goldman and Beatrice Jones, only the latter paid attention to gossip and rumours.

According to what Beatrice had told Hermione, Lucius Malfoy had been estranged from his wife for the past three years, but even before that, he was known to enter into brief sexual arrangements with members of the Hospital.

Pure blood, half blood, muggle born nurses or medi witches; some married, others not. The only thing those liasons had in common was their short- life and that Lucius always made sure the parting was in good terms:

“Rumour has it” Beatrice giggled “ that he is a very _considerate_ lover, a true gentleman. He makes no promises and makes it pretty clear such relationships have no future. No witch that lays with him can claim to have been misled.”

Hermione answered: “I do not know anything about how your marriage came to be or why it was not successful, but I heard that you have been...well, _playing the field_ since before your wife left.”

“Hermione, I want you to tell me the truth: would you condemn me for my infidelities, even if I assure you that Arabella had long gave me leave to find my pleasure elsewhere, and that I never done anything without the express consent of any of my partners?”

There was no divorce available for witches and wizards and, with most of the marriages being arranged among the pure-blood polite society, it was only to be expected that, sooner or later, a couple would reach some sort of agreement, where infidelity was allowed, as long as it done discreetly.

“No, Lucius, I could never condemn you for being unfaithful to your wife. Many men are. Nor could I lecture you on the benefits of a happy marriage. As you know, I am not an expert in this area.”

“You assume my marriage to have been the norm for a man of my social standing.” he stated bitterly. “I tell you, Hermione: I did not marry Arabella Rosier because I was forced to or started having affairs because I was not satisfied with our couplings.

Like you, when you eloped with your muggle, I was deeply, _truly_ in love with Arabella; it was only after we married that I realized I had made the biggest mistake of my life.”

 

***

_I met Arabella at the wedding of her cousin, Felix, who had been a friend from Hogwarts. Arabella was not of the main Branch of the family, but since her parents died when she was too young to remember, she was taken in by her uncle, Evan, and raised as his daughter._

 

_She had not attended Hogwarts; this fact, in itself, did not mean much. More traditional families are known to homeschool their children. I know that she had received the letter because my parents were close with the Rosiers and were aware they simply elected to have Arabella be taught by private tutors; so when I told my father I wanted to court the girl, he gave his approval, knowing for a fact that she was not a squib._

 

_We followed all the protocols of courtship; I was never alone with Arabella, I barely touched her really, and we only kissed once, a couple of weeks before our marriage. It was a chaste, brushing of the lips; I felt her body trembling when we kissed and assumed it was due to her inexperience, not a warning sign._

 

_She was eighteen and I, twenty-four. I had observed during our courtship that Arabella was not a warm person; she was polite, but formal and sometimes, even distant. Again, used I was with society girls, I was not deterred. Arabella was so exceptional in many ways that I was eager to marry her. She was a talented artist, her paintings were wondrous things and every dress, every piece of jewelry she wore, had a meaning behind it, like a secret. Her imagination was strongly visual and she was at her happiest either going out with friends  and shopping for extravagant clothes - she had an amazing taste, as you can imagine- or at her atelier, working on her paintings._

 

_Arabella cried on our wedding night. It was not the normal cry of a virgin, afraid of the pain; no, it was a nervous breakdown._

 

_I tried to comfort her, but my mere touch was like an aggression; she cried, she screamed…_

 

_We did not consummate our wedding that night; I asked her house elf to bring Arabella a calming draught and went to sleep in another room._

 

_The next day, Father told me to try again; the Rosiers came to visit, spoke privately with Arabella, and by the time I joined her in her chambers, she accepted my advances without tears or screams. She laid there, eyes closed, and asked me to make love to her. I did, but I do not think she took any pleasure from it._

 

_She apologised the day after, in her usual aloof way, but I could tell she was holding herself. I pressed her to tell me what exactly was wrong; it was then that Arabella told me about the curse : she could not withstand being touched. Human contact overloaded her senses and she could not bear it for longer than seconds._

 

_It had always been like that, as far as she could remember; at first, the healers thought it was just a reaction to the death of her parents but the months passed and the Rosiers, seeing that the girl barely accepted  their touch, called many curse breakers, but none could lift it._

 

_They turned again to the healers; after many attempts at treatment, they finally settled  for a palliative : it was a milder version of a lust potion, diluted in white tea, to be consumed daily. Arabella returned to Rosier Hall and both Evan and his wife, Alicia, considered themselves lucky enough that they were now able to touch their adopted daughter._

 

_Regardless, the Rosiers knew Arabella could not attend Hogwarts; her condition would be exposed and they, shamed. When I confronted them, it became apparent they thought they were helping Arabella by convincing her to accept my courtship. The healer who treated her since infancy theorized that  a strong love potion would enable her to live happily as a wife and mother, and the Rosiers simply did not see any problem in having Arabella constantly consuming such potions._

 

_Arabella was fooled into believing that marriage was the only path for her; she would have been more than happy living her life as a spinster, in contact only with the few family and friends that knew about the curse and accepted her, surrounded by her art,cocooned in her small, safe world…_

 

_Unfortunately, we had taken a vow,  consummated the marriage and, by doing this, we were obligated towards House of Malfoy and had to produce an heir._

 

_After ten years of marriage, we finally  conceived. It took that long because I did not want a repeat of our only and first night together. My long association with St Mungo's started when I began to research my wife's condition; when it was clear there was nothing we could do, we opted for a magically assisted artificial insemination._

 

_She would use a breast pump to get milk for Abraxas and I would give him the bottle while he laid on my chest. Arabella would stroke his hair and his soft skin, but not hold him for longer than a minute. He grew very attached to me. Arabella´s inadequacies started to hurt her deeply; she loved the boy, but so young, he could not understand that his mother expressed her love in different ways : knitting his clothes, painting his face in canvas, buying him gifts..._

 

_When my father died, we decided to end the farce:  Arabella moved to Whitstable, where she lives in a cottage in this small, close knit wizarding community. We visit her at least twice a year and Brax does not realize that this arrangement is highly unusual, because it is the only life he know._

 

***

Hermione laid in bed later that night, Lucius words ringing in her ears, sleep evading her…

She had covered his right hand with her and squeezed after he finished telling her about his failed marriage. The curse, to Hermione's muggle ears, sounded like a form of autism.

Lucius and Hermione remained like this,her hand on his, for some time. She wanted to comfort him as a friend would and felt she could, but hesitated in saying something, so she just stayed there, with him, in complete silence.

Lucius had shared a deeply personal, painful part of his life with Hermione; perhaps it was something he needed to say to someone, a weight he wanted to be lifted from his shoulders...

They had known each other for less than a week, but  somehow they had established this deep, and mutual, bond of trust.

The truth was, Hermione felt comfortable around him; there was something in this Lucius that spoke directly to her, and she saw herself responding to him in ways she would never have dreamed before.

She was falling for him.

 

***

 

When Hermione returned to work on Tuesday, she found a vase of white and blue violets sitting on her desk.

Smiling, she picked the note that accompanied the flowers:

 

>  
> 
> Dear Hermione,
> 
>  
> 
> Brax is very excited about visiting his friends this weekend. I thank you beforehand for the invitation and wish you a productive, successful day at work.
> 
>  
> 
> Violets are not as wild as orchids, or as beautiful as roses, _I know,_ but is said that flowers have a secret language and this is my clumsy attempt at writing to you in their mysterious dialect .
> 
>  
> 
> Yours truly,
> 
>  
> 
> Lucius Armand Malfoy
> 
>  
> 
> PS: If you have no interest in the flowers and the meaning behind them, I ask you to please, not rescind the invitation to Abraxas; if that is the case, I will remain at Malfoy Manor for the weekend and will send Brax to Cokeworth with his assigned house elf.

 

***

Hermione passed by a bookstore on her way home and bought a book on the language of flowers:

Blue Violet: **I will always be true**

White Violet: **Let's take a chance on happiness**

 


	4. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Hermione do adult things while the kids sleep...

 

Hermione had baked double the usual amount of cookies in preparation for the Malfoys visit, so it was no wonder that the smell of chocolate, cinammon, raisins and ginger invaded all the rooms of the small, but comfortable, cottage on the outskirts of Cokeworth. 

Tom and Rose were happily eating the leftover dough as their mother placed the cooled cookies in a jar : 

" Stop eating: you are going to get a stomache ache, not to mention, sugar is not good for your teeth!" Hermione, daughter of dentists, was only allowed sugar as a reward for good behaviour. As a result, she developed quite the sweet teeth later on, but tried to control her urges,as he belived in setting good examples rather the " do as I say and not as I do" approach.

Pipi had spent great part of the morning cleaning the house and taking care of the garden while Hermione was stuck in the kitchen  with her two  self proclaimed " assistants". She could not deny she was as excited as Tom and Rose were for the visit: they hardly entertained, save ocasional neighbohord children playdates or Hermione´s closest friends from work coming for tea, therefore, to  be hosting the Malfoys was something out of the ordinary.

Hermione told herself she was not tring to impress them, just being a good hostess.  _Our cottage might not be Malfoy Manor, but is not the Gaunt shack anymore_. She had come to love the place she called home, particularly the spot where her gardens met with the unspoiled waters of the river nearby; a couple of  kilometers down the road, the Mill and the insufficiently treated domestic residuals coming would render the once clean waters dirty and smelly which was not at all surprising, since  Cokeworth was an industrial town in the highly industrialized Midlands, not the picturesque village in Wiltshire where Malfoy Manor was located.

As the agreed time for the Malfoy´s arrival approached, Hermione mind drifted to the events from her future past that had brough her to her present: sometimes, it was like her life beforeTom and Rose had been a dream, so comfortable and content Hermione was with motherhood. To her, it was not a burden , but a privilege : Tom and Rose were happy, well adjusted children and filled her days with so much joy that she could barely fault their lousy fathers. Loving them, spending time with them, seeing to their needs was not as half as difficult as she had imagined  it would have been and, when the faces of her previous life would visit Hermione in her dreams, she would  wake up confused and disoriented, worried  about having gone back, during her sleep, relief only coming when realizing that she had actually gone nowhere, that Tom and Rose were still there, still _hers_.

 

In spite of her current happiness, Hermione could not help but to think of her parents, of how they would love and spoil their grandchildren; it would always remain her greatest regret, the obliviating of her parents, the one thing that pushed into making the most difficult decision of her life.

Watching her children´s faces covered in cookie dough, Hermione wondered about her friends from before, where they would be right now, six years after she left them, whether they had already settled into their professional lives, married or if they had children of their own...she had  even  dreamed about it once,  watching as an expectator this idyllic image of herself, Ron ,Harry, Ginny and a visibly uncomfortable Draco, all together at Platform 9 ¾ , seeing their sons and daughters off to Hogwarts.

Hermione took a deep breath;  _A dream is but a dream._

***

“A knuck for your thoughts.” Lucius melodious interrupated Hermione´s thoughts as she started to drift once again.

Hermione offered Lucius a warm smile. "Nothing of importance...I am just happy to have you and Abraxas here..."

Lunch had been delicious. Hermione could hold her own in the kitchen, but cooking was not something she truly enjoyed; baking, on the other hand, had always held a special meaning to her. As a child, she would spend hours helping grandma Martha- by then, a step away from dementia- prepare the family´s desserts, measuring ingredients, slicing apples, whisking eggs and, after she learned how to read, it would be Hermione reading the recipes from that old scrapbook aloud, the closest thing to magic she had before discovering Hogwarts and her own powers.

Hermione´s apple crunch had been devoured in instants, with Tom boasting about how his mum made the best sweets and Rose lamenting that desserts were only allowed on weekends ( not mentioning the fact that cookies would be available every single day, a staple at the Gaunt household) and now, Lucius and Hermione were sitting outside, sipping tea, while Tom and Rose tried to teach Abraxas to ride a bicycle.

“But why you asked about my thoughts? Did I have that silly mum expression on my face ?”

Lucius chuckled. “ I would not call it _silly_ , my dear; I myself  look at Brax like he was some sort of sacred masterpiece sometimes and no one can say Lucius Malfoy is a silly man.”

Hermione knew it to be true: she had caught Lucius proudly smiling at Brax a couple of times already.

“ We are very lucky to have them, aren't we?”

“Indeed." Lucius lowered his voce a tone or two. "While we both love our offspring and would kill and die for them, we also have _other_   interests than child rearing; I look forward for tonight, Hermione!”

She blushed slightly; Lucius had mentioned he would take her out for a nightcap after they put the children to bed. Hermione trusted both Pipi and Howdy to keep an eye on Tom, Rose and Abraxas while their parents went on what could be called their first date.

“I admit I am _also_ looking forward for tonight Lucius.” So far, Hermione´s adult life had been defined by war, studies and family. Her only experience at a serious romantic relationship had been a disaster that made her numb for several years; after some time, motherhood provided quite the excuse to ignore this part of her life that Hermione considered a failure and, in addition to that, the need to be discreet, the fear of being exposed had only isolated Hermione more.

Until Lucius came into her life and made her _want_. 

 

****

“Are they out ?”

Hermione whispered her answer: “ _Yes_. Be quiet, please.” Tom and Abraxas took much longer than expected to fall asleep and she simply did not want her efforts going to waste by speaking too loud.

Lucius offered her his hand; they grabbed their coats and left by the door.

“We are side apparating.” in a matter of seconds, the familiar, _unpleasant_ feeling of being pulled by the belly informed Hermione they would soon arrive in their secret destination.

She gasped when she recognized the surroundings: as it happened, the destination was _Paris._

More specifically, Lucius flat on the sixth arrondissement.

“And the answer is _no_ , I did not bring you to my bachelor pad to have my way with you; we are going for drinks at the Ritz---unless...”

“...no, drinks at the Ritz sounds wonderful, Lucius.” As much as Hermione wanted nothing more than to be snogged senseless by the handsome wizard, she wanted to experience Paris at the height of its splendour too. She had, after all, put great effort into looking glamourous, and was not about to end her night without at leasta drink and a dance.

As they were near the École Nationale Superieure des Beaux-Arts, they crossed the Pont des Arts to the 1st Arrondissement and walked about twenty five minutes before they reached the famed Hotel, taking their seats at the bar counter where Hemmingway and Fitzgerald sat during the crazy 1920´s.

Hermione could not imagine The Ritz serving  fluffy drink like pina colada- _had it been even invented yet?_ \- so she suggested they ordered champagne.

They toasted and, as she sipped the sparkling wine, Hermione´s eyes scattered around the room, where elegance and sophistication reigned. 

“ You see, _they_ are not  _ that _ bad.”

_They_ as in _Muggles_.

“No, of course they are _not_ ; what they are is _too many_ and _too dangerous_.” Lucius took another sip from his champagne and continued. “ The smartest among us do business with them; believe me, I know first hand how this association can be profitable.

But there are many risks in having close dealings with muggles, as 1929 showed us…”

The effects of the crash were still being felt and another world war was looming in the horizon.  _ Not to mention Dumbledore´s former lover, Grindelwald, taking over country after country. _

“We are living through a crisis and people tend to get desperate and made terrible decisions in times like these. Although we livein separate worlds, we are all human beings, flawed and scared, and at this exact moment in History, a german and an austrian, wizard and muggle, are driving their followers to their dooms…”

“Are you, by any chance, a Seer, my dear?”

Hermione was in a very priveleged position: with her knowledge of things to come, she had already profited, by investing a great part of the gold she had brought with her  back in 1926, just to sell all her bonds a exactly month before the New York Stock Exchange crashed.

So, in a sense, _yes_ , Hermione could say she was able to see the future: “ I would say that I have had  my share of premonitory dreams... but I am  _positive_  about not having the gift of Sight.”

As they finished their flutes, the first notes of Night and Day, the most devastatingly sensual of all love songs, played in the background:

“ Would you give me the honour of this dance, Hermione?”

> Night and day, you are the one
> 
> Only you beneath the moon
> 
> Under the sun

 

“I would be delighted, Lucius.”

 

The long, green, silk dress accentuated Hermione's thin waist and her lower back was exposed. She loved the fashions and, as many women ( and she was sure, witches) before and after her,  shetook inspiration from the movie stars for this special night, and wore a  design of Elsa Schiaparelli. 

 

> Whether near to me or far
> 
> It's no matter, darlin', where you are
> 
> I think of you night and day

 

When his warm hand touched her back,  Hermione whimpered; they started swirling aroundthe dancefloor as the music progressed.

 

> Night and day, why's it so
> 
> That this longing for you
> 
> Follows wherever I go

 

Hermione _knew_ there must be other couples dancing too, but to her, it was like the night belonged to them, and to them alone.

 

> In the roaring traffic's boom
> 
> In the silence of my lonely room
> 
> I think of you night and day

 

Lucius gaze was intense, almost visceral in his obvious need of her, but Hermione held her head up, brown eyes on grey eyes, for she was not afraid of his lust.

 

> Night and day, under the hide of me
> 
> There's an, ooh, such a hungry yearning
> 
> Burning inside of me

 

“Darling…” he whispered in her ear. “ _ I want you _ .”

 

> _ And this torment won't be through _
> 
> _ Till you let me spend my life making love to you _
> 
> _ Day and night, night and day _

 

They left as soon as the song ended.

 

***

 

Hermione burnt inside.

In her limited experience, sex was not this all consuming, overwhelming wave of lust and desire.

No, Hermione could easily say she had never felt this way before.

Viktor had been her first and in retrospect, she thanked Merlin for this mercy; it was awkward, as any first time ought to be, but Viktor took measures not to hurt her unnecessarily and their subsequent summer fling was a very tender, light affair.

The childish crush over Ron and her own misconceptions on what kind of person she truly was drove Hermione to confuse their abrasive relationship with a passionate one. The war and the adrenaline of battle had brought them together and Hermione fooled herself into believing they would find middle ground, the cumulative of their shared experiences and her love for his family would pave the way for healthy, balanced relationship.

Hermione could see herself settling for a solid, if not boring, marriage with Ron; had he not had returned to Hogwarts that weekend and dosed her with a love potion instead of giving her the time she needed, she had to admit the chances of her actually giving him a second chance would have been great.

Instead, Ron took the easiest way out, betrayed her trust and she saw herself forced to go somewhere far away from her former boyfriend, his family and their friends...

The world,  _ her world _ , was upside down: here she was, head over heels, in love with Lucius Malfoy, blood sister to Merope Gaunt and, strangest of all, Hermione was not only raising Tom Riddle, but, in accordance to her friend´s dying wishes, she was guiding the boy into becoming Lord Gaunt, a different type for sure, without the taint of his obsession with the Dark Arts or hatred for muggles and muggle-borns, but still, this was as far as the Gryffindor Princess was expected to have gone.

In the months Hermione had been _consciously and willingly_ with Ron, they had established a pleasant enough sexual intimacy. It was evident that Ron would never become a great lover, but he had tried to pleasure her,   immediately accepting  many of Hermione´s suggestions in bed, but never much to her satisfaction, as his usual tendency towards harsh and impulsive decisons did not translate well in the bedroom.

The truth was that Hermione had came _ close _ once or twice with Ron, but never had had an orgasm.

Lucius kisses alone had Hermione  _ moaning _ and she melted in his arms, simultaneously giving in and fighting for dominance, so incensed in her passion she was; their lovemaking was like a dance, where the lead would be shared or alternated by silent, implicit agreement.

He attacked her lips with furious intent, releasing the frustration of having to hold back his lust for her in the last couple of days, as he waited for their weekend . Thankfully, despite Lucius eagerness, Hermione welcomed the aggression with equal intensity, so much in fact that her hands cupped his  face middle kiss, pulling him even closer, begging for more of him.

Lucius held this lithe, small framed woman with all the gentleness he could muster, afraid to hurt her; it was crazy, he knew, but it was their first time together and their bodies were just getting used to each other... but there she was, Hermione, pressed against the door, barely able to move, responding to his kisses and his hands as he mapped her body.

There was no doubt in Hermione´s mind: she was  _ exactly _ where she wanted to be.

Lucius, however, _needed_ reassurance. She understood his needs and decided to give him what he wanted; when he briefly broke their heated kiss to gasp for air, Hermione breathed in, paused for a second and dreamily, she whispered “  _ Yes _ ” before finally exhaling.

Message received, with a swift movement, Lucius lifted Hermione as if she weighted nothing, and carried her to the bedroom. She could not help giggling, remembering what Lucius had told her when they met, that he saw himself as  her “ knight in shining armour”.

As soon as they crossed the threshold to the bedroom and Lucius put her down, they started to frantically undress each other, their clothes falling on the floor as they made their way to the large bed that awaited them.

It was then that Lucius took a moment to admire her body; Hermione was a pretty little thing when dressed, but in her natural form, his witch was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen...

In the exploration that followed, Lucius found that her breasts fitted in his hands perfectly **,** as if she had been  _ made _ for him. Hermione´s bosson was not by any means large, but delicious in an youthful sort of way, firm and heavy, the rosy nipples aroused by the intimate contact.

Lucius mouth watered as he continued to knead her tits; she moaned his name as he licked the curvature of her right breast until the nipple, proceeding to suckle it with the right amount of pressure before teasing Hermione with a bit of teeth, the ultra sensitive skin responding immediately, the areola stiffened even more as he blew cold air.

“ _ Lucius _ !”

Pleased to hear his name escaping from her lips, Lucius travelled south leaving a trail of kisses from Hermione's breasts all the way to her most private area; her furry had been carefully trimmed and the realization that she had prepared herself  _ for him  _ placed a smug smile on his lips.

“Lovely, simply lovely!” Lucius praised as he parted her legs apart and positioned his face between her tights.

Hermione´s labia was darker than what he had expected- larger too- and  he found the area completely hairless, clean of any obstruction. Lucius had heard about a hair removal charm being all the rage in the southern hemisphere, but had never  _ seen _ it.

Fascinated by this discovery, he concentrated all his senses in deciphering the enigma of his witch's cunt: his eyes saw her nub coming to life as he aptly manipulated the protuberance, first with his fingers, then with his tongue; his taste buds, he found,  could not get enough of Hermione´s flavour, rich, feminine, utterly addictive. His nose scented her arousal and he was amazed at her wantonness, his hardened cock weeping with pre-cum as he moved atop of her, ready to claim her, to enter her, to love her.  

_ To fuck her. _

But in this divine, perfect moment, certain ghosts chose to re-emerged:

“Tell me you want this; I want to hear  _ it, _ Hermione. Please, say it.”

Her hands gently pushing him forward, Hermione said with conviction: “Lucius---please---I  _ need _ you!”

 

***

Hermione had fantasized about Lucius since they met and while in her dreams, the older wizard was very good, the real Lucius was even better.

Lucius took charge in such way that Hermione never second guessed her instincts; it all felt very natural, very right. He entered her at once, his large, thick cock smoothly sliding through her chanel and, when he was all in, Hermione raised her lower back a bit to give him more access to her core; he then grabbed one of her legs, placing it around his waist as he continued to thrust, increasing his pace at the rhythm of her moans of pleasure, taking his cue on every reaction her body and face gave him.

Much to his surprise- and infinite happiness- Hermione was not shy: extremely responsive, she took his hand at some point, guiding Lucius in playing with her nub as he continued to fuck her, driving them both close to their edges.

Hermione's cunt was  _ tight _ , the inner muscles fluttered around his prick in an exquisite way. Her enjoyment in the act, evident by the lovely sounds she was making, was more than confirmed by the amount of slick she produced; soon, their mixed juices had coated Lucius length in its entirely, and he could hear the wet sounds every time his cock went in and out of her.

The orgasm hit her quite hard; she came first and, in her high, screamed his name, which brought him to his own climax:

“ _ Hermione! _ ”

Lucius said before she felt his load of warm, thick semen invading her, filling her with all he had to offer.

 

***

There was a second time…

...and then a third time as they showered before returning to England.

The best thing, in Hermione's opinion- barring the fact that she had not one, but three orgasms- was to find that Lucius liked to cuddle.

“I would have never imagined…” she said between giggles. “ that it could be  _ that _ good!”

“Witch, it will only get better.”

She silently agreed, then added: “A pity you must return to Malfoy Manor…”

“I will have no one spreading rumours about us, about  _ you _ , love…” Lucius had been clear he wanted to pursue a relationship with Hermione, but they needed to be discreet, and this included him not sleeping at Cokeworth when Abraxas would be visiting: she was, at least in the eyes of the wizarding world, a  _ widow _ , and to have a married man spending the night under her roof- even if supposedly, in the guest room- was bad enough, and perhaps worse due to Malfoy´s reputation and status.

“Now, let's not speak about such unpleasant matters...you have always been lovely to look at, but tonight you were simply resplandecente, Hermione. The dress you wore, my dear…” Lucius whistled at the memory. “You said it is a muggle fashion, yes? Well, I suppose they  _ indeed _ have many things to teach us…”

“It is a Schiaparelli; very expensive and exclusive, only the best for  _ you _ , Lucius.” Usually, she was not about stroking a man's ego this way, but this was different.  _ He deserves all the praise: three orgams in one night! _

“We could meet in muggle London more often, disappear within the crowd, far from the prying eyes...do you have time this week? I heard you have wednesday off...”

Hermione was cultivating a more “feminine” side of her lately; the change started after Hogwarts- the stay at the Burrow had at least one positive effect on her life- and continued once she travelled back. As it turned out, ingrained misogyny aside, the 1930´s were not the worst period to be a woman: the Depression meant that many had been forced to work outside their homes and, as a result, social boundaries were starting to fall.

Movies, as it happened, were both a  reflection and a inspiration for this phenomenon: no wonder Hermione´s grandmothers would speak highly of Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and , her personal favorite, Barbara Stanwyck: the movies she had been watching, geared to a female audience, were so ahead of time in their portrayal of female struggles that left the nineties looking like a boy´s club.

Hermione could not deny that watching those goddesses going on about defying the patriarchy while dressed to the nines had inspired her to dress to impress from time to time.

_But not everyday...Jesus, I could not go on this routine every single day!_

Unfortunately, this new side of Hermione that Lucius approved would also be preventing her from meeting him this week:

“ I am going to the cinema with Alicia and Beatrice...there is a new Barbara Stanwyck movie that I am dying to see and the three of us had carefully arranged our schedules to have Wednesday off for this reason.”

“How about Friday then? I admit I have never been to one of those theaters…”

_Lucius at the movies! That is going to be fun!_

“It is a date!”

 

***

“Your Father must be funny; mum is smiling at him!”

 

“Howdy is funny too! Howwwdy...do your elf dance for Rose and Tom!”

 

The little elf did the jitterbug with his small legs; Rose and Abraxas laughed very hard, but Tom was less impressed.

 

“Look!” He pointed at their parents direction. “They are  _ laughing  _ very loud! I want to laugh too...I am going there!”

 

“But Howdy can do cartwheels…”

 

_ They are grown ups...I bet they are not even that funny! And I like cartwheels… _

 

***

The months passed quickly, Summer turning into Autumn and suddenly, it was Christmas. Hermione made a point of celebrating the wizarding holidays too; she hoped that, once Tom was an adult, his platform would be traditional values instead of bigotry and hatred. She was of opinion, being a muggle born, that Hogwarts had to at least offer a course on Wizarding Traditions to the children coming from a non magical background, not to mention, reforming the Chair of Muggle Studies; only education could fill the gaps and help dissipate the cloud of prejudice that covered wizarding Britain.

Abraxas, Tom and Rose became inseparable; Lucius and Hermione, too. She worried that the children were too wrapped around themselves and took to invite the neighborhood kids more often for cake and games.

Rose, more social than  her brother, would play with whoever came, as long as they were able to keep up with her bossy nature ( a trait Hermione admitted the girl had inherited from her), while Tom , more reserved, would take part in the games and talk with the boys his age until his interest waned and then, he would seek the company of books, sitting on a quiet corner to read.

Hermione would have been worried, but she noticed that Tom was not acting out of an inate superiority complex: sometimes, when Abraxas and Rose got too much in his opinion, he would also leave them in favour of finishing one of his drawings or starting with another book.

She would take Tom and Rose to the movies once a month and, as Lucius came to relax more and more about going out on Muggle London, he allowed Abraxas to join their friends. It was nice to see the pure blood boy becoming a fan of the dog Rin Tin Tin, insisting the animal actor to be a “ familiar” for his intelligence and tricks were simply too advanced for a regular dog!

Hermione explained many times that the dog was indeed trained and that many things could also be accomplished with camera and lightning, but Abraxas was adamant and buggered Lucius to have a familiar:

“Look the problem you got me,  _ witch _ !” Lucius pretended to be angry, but was obviously very glad that Hermione and Abraxas liked each other.

“It is quite a good idea, actually, to have a pet…” before Lucius could open his mouth, Hermione said: “ and the snakes that come to the backyard to speak with Tom do  _ n o _ _t_ count!”

“Why is that Tom is the only one able to speak with the snakes? I thought being a parselmouth was a gift shared by all Slytherin´s descendants.”

“I am able to understand them, but not speak; Rose can speak some words, but only Tom is fluent enough to hold a conversation. Snakes are very smart, they keep us informed of all that is happening in the neighborhood.” Hermione theorized the blood Merope had shared with her granted this partial ability and imagined that by breastfeeding Rose for over a year, that the girl had picked up some of the gift too. “ There is a wizarding family nearby according the the snakes…”

“...the Princes “ Lucius informed her. “ Slytherins, all of them. They have an interest in the Mill and owe part of the town for what I know. I am sure they would love to meet you, Hermione.”

_ Oh, this explains Eileen meeting and marrying Severus Snape father… _

“Maybe yes; I do not socialize all that much…”  _ especially with pure blood families known to disinherit their offspring based on whom they marry...even though Tobias Snape was a terrible man.. _

“Speaking of socializing, every year we host our own Yule Ball at Malfoy Manor. It is a long held tradition, more or less part of my duties as Head of the House and…”

They had been together for about half an hour and never had Hermione seen Lucius looking so uncomfortable.

She immediately understood where this conversation was going.

“...and your wife is coming to visit?”

“Yes” he said. “ It is part of our agreement: we spend Abraxas birthday by the sea with her and Arabella spends a week at the Manor, organizing and hosting the Ball. “

“Oh, _ I see _ .”

Hermione was happy with Lucius. Tom, Rose and Abraxas were also happy with how things were going and her close friends, the ones who knew about her relationship, had accepted without question. Personally, she did not give a damn about the inner rules of the elites and never felt that Lucius treated her like a mere side piece, but she could not pretend she was not hurt that his estranged wife would be staying with him.

“Arabella knows about us and wants to meet you. She asked me to tell you that, if you decide to accept her invitation and attend the Ball, that you are going to be treated with respect. “

Hermione was stunned. Although she knew Arabella was in agreement with her husband straying, asking to be introduced to the other woman in his life was a bold move.

“Why not meeting in private? Why it has to be before everyone's eyes?”

“Mainly, two reasons: first, Arabella will be medicated and able to act as normally as she can during the Ball. Now that she lives a different life, the potions were discontinued and, as a result, she gets more anxious about meeting new people. Arabella will also be very busy organizing the ball and meeting you for tea during the day would add another level of stress. She fears she could have a break down and be unable to perform her duties as hostess if the meeting is private.

second: while she does not-  _ cannot _ \- love me as a lover, she does love me as a friend. Arabella knows that I am happy, and , most importantly, that Brax is happy with you in our lives. She wants to disperse any rumours that she is a spurned wife or that you are a scarlet woman, by appearing to befriend you. “

It all made sense, from Arabella´s perspective: her problems seemingly were with personal, physical contact, not the ones usually established during controlled social settings. Lucius spoke on how Arabella was attending weddings, parties, shopping for dresses with some degree of confidence and flair, no doubt shielded by a combination of usual pureblood etiquette and potions.

Nonetheless, it was all _too_ surreal for Hermione: she did not like the word, but she was, in fact, Lucius´mistress.

To have second thoughts over spending hours in the same room with her lover´s wife, pretending nothing was happening, was understandable.

“You don't think is a good idea...I know, it is asking too much…”

“No, no....I will go. “ Hermione did not believe in the words coming out of her mouth, but once again, who would have believed that she travelled through time and adopted the boy who would grow up to try and kill her best friend ?

Or that she loved Lucius Malfoy.

Attending a ball could not be that bad : 

“I will meet you wife, Lucius.”


End file.
